


FILE: 1816 Isometrified

by Xrross



Series: The Wishful Files [3]
Category: Id:Invaded (Anime)
Genre: Abstract, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, I'm Bad At Summaries, Inspired by Music, Music, Musical References, Pretentious, a e s t h e t i c, aesthetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:28:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xrross/pseuds/Xrross
Summary: Stranded in a world of music and abstract imagery, Sakaido struggles to find meaning in anything as the Wellside rush to solve a sudden kidnapping and save a young life.Partly inspired by music and art from Jake Bowen's "Isometric".
Series: The Wishful Files [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878448
Comments: 14
Kudos: 9





	FILE: 1816 Isometrified

_**FILE: 1816 Isometrified** _

* * *

He woke to the sound of music. A piano, somewhere far away, playing a simple melody, relaxing his body and trying to coax him back to sleep even though he'd just woken up. With a tired moan, he forced his eyes open, his vision hazy, unable to make out more than just vague colours and shapes. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and sat up.

_Why... was I lying down...?_

Opening his eyes, the man frowned and squinted, his vision still not clear. Still nothing but odd shapes and colours. Slapping his face to wake himself up, he looked again, and like before, all he saw were shapes and colours, though slightly clearer and less fuzzy now. His eyes wide open, the man finally processed what was around him, his breath leaving him as he realised that there had been nothing wrong with his vision at all. Rising to his feet, he gazed upon the world he found himself in; he was in a seemingly infinite realm, space itself the colour brown, blank and featureless. _Within_ that space though, the man was far from the only thing. The world was filled with floating isometric shapes: hexagons, pentagons, cubes of various sizes filled the world, all warm, easy colours, slowly moving and shifting through space. Some of them, the man observed, seemed to be "bleeding", the colour itself leaking off like runny paint and falling towards the unreachable bottom in long, unbroken lines.

Noticing a hexagon floating in front of his face, the man tapped it with his finger, somewhat surprised that he could actually touch it, his touch sending it spinning away. 

_This world... this isn't how the world is supposed to be. Or... no? Maybe this is right? It feels wrong, but... what's my frame of reference...? I can't..._

"I can't remember anything," the man said aloud, a slight chill going down his spine as that realisation hit him. He stood there in silence for a moment, the shapes passing him by as he tried to figure out what he should do. It was around this time however, that he noticed the music still playing. It had changed though; whereas previously it had been a solely piano piece, he could now pick up odd, almost electronic beats underneath, all coming together to form a more layered, though ultimately still low-key, ambient melody. Frustratingly, the music seemed to be echoing around from all directions, seemingly emitting from the shapes themselves. Closing his eyes, the man held his breath and listened carefully. After a few seconds, it became apparent that the music was stronger behind him. Turning around, he saw a large, tall brown rectangle in the distance, seemingly standing atop a massive prism, albeit apparently a much larger one.

"Hmm." Looking down, he noticed for the first time that he too was standing on a large, green hexagonal prism that rose up from... somewhere, the shaft fading into the brown after a while. As he watched however, a dark brown hexagon to materialise out of nowhere just below him and floated into place next to the prism, connected perfectly with it. Raising an eyebrow, the man looked back up at the rectangle and thought of his desire to reach it. Sure enough, another hexagon appeared, this time a black one, neatly rising into place out of nowhere without a sound. With a grimace, the man hesitantly tapped the first hexagon with the tip of his shoe. Solid. He put his foot down and slowly transferred his weight on it. Still solid. Finally, with a deep breath, he lifted his other foot and stepped onto it, leaving the prism entirely. Still completely solid. 

With a sigh of relief, the man looked back up at the rectangle and walked forward, making sure to keep one eye on his feet as new hexagons of various shapes appeared to grant him passage.

* * *

"As expected, he's already on track to do much better than Anaido," Habutae noted, watching Sakaido slowly cross the distance between himself and his target. 

"In his defence, it makes sense that an arithmomaniac would perform poorly in a world full of things to count," Shiratake replied, prompting a snigger from Wakashikia.

"Really? You're gonna defend that guy? I'd be a bit more thankful for him if he didn't sandwich his investigations between suicide after suicide!"

"Our focus is examining the id well, not gossiping about the brilliant detectives."

"Sorry, Assistant Director."

"Yes, Assistant Director."

"Urg...! Sorry, Miss! Ma'am! Assistant Di-!"

"Inspector, I found the name of the song that's playing, it's Mare Tranquillitatis, by the guitarist Jake Bowen, released on the 31st of May, 2015," Togo said, playing Momoki a short snippet of the song, perfectly matching the one coming from the id well.

"That's the third Jake Bowen song. During Fukuda's runs, we also heard 'Angry God' and 'City 1816'. Whoever this is, Jake Bowen's music must have had a tremendous influence on them," Momoki noted.

Wakashikia then spoke up, though not before adding Mare Tranquillitatis to a gargantuan Spotify playlist. "It's not just him. We've heard works by Buckethead, Shiloh Dynasty, Boards of Canada, there was a HWLS remix at one point..."

"So perhaps it's a specific genre or group of genres that he's attached to," Shiratake posed.

"All the songs so far have been electronic, acoustic, lo-fi, etcetera, generally quite low tempo, relaxing, ambient. Music that's easy to relax or even fall asleep to, or perhaps contemplate serious thoughts. These types of songs can be quite relaxing or depressing depending on your mood," Habutae said.

"Beats to study slash murder to, anyone?" Wakashiki quipped. Habutae's lips twitched for a moment, but no one laughed, so he just coughed awkwardly and continued. "I see songs like this all the time on YouTube in massive compilations and live streams. It's possible that we're dealing with someone pretty young, maybe even a teenager."

"It's possible. Some of these songs sound straight out of a depressed teenager's playlist," Shiratake commented as Wakashikia quietly closed Spotify.

"That's a good possibility actually," Habutae said, pulling up the image of a young man in his twenties. "I still can't ID two of the people that Anaido saw, but I was able to dig up info about the third: Kai Hakushu, a faculty member at Fuchu Nishi High School. Teaches literature. On top of that, while I can't find anything on the other two, they all look to be around high school age."

"Fuchi Nishi, that's the same school as our missing girl." Momoki folded his arms, his expression hardening. "Habutae, go through faculty and student records for the past two years. Look for things like criminal records or misdemeanours."

"On it!"

"Sir," Togo said, drawing Momoki's attention back to the display. "Sakaido has arrived at the bookcase."

"Habutae, hold off on that last one. Shiratake, get ready. If the past runs are any indication, then we'll find someone here at the piano. Hopefully, they're an actual person we can track this time.

* * *

After god knows how long, the man finally reached the rectangle. Letting out a weary groan, he looked back, and was both impressed and mortified by the distance travelled. If he leaned over into the abyss, he could still see the prism he started on, hard to make out though, almost blending into the...

_Back... ground? Space? Ehh..._

Turning back around, he approached the rectangle, hexagons appearing in rapid succession to bring him right next to it. Now that he was this close, he would see that the rectangle was in fact made of wood, and was a fully 3D shape, placed on the very edge of the prism and taking up one entire side. Rapping his knuckles on it, he could barely hear the sound over the piano, which by this point was deafening, all but confirming that the source of the music was behind the wooden rectangle. Summoning more hexagons, he walked around the wooden block and peeked around the side to see the rest.

What he found was, as he suspected, a piano; a large, grand instrument, though he was a bit surprised to see the lid down, rather than open, as he'd so often seen. Regardless, what he found more interesting was the person playing it. There wasn't much to tell from his back, but the man seemed to be about middle-aged judging by his thin hair and portly figure.

"Hey, excuse me," he said, stepping onto the prism, the hexagon path behind him vanishing the second his foot left it. The man immediately stopped playing and, having by this point gotten used to the music, the silence was downright unsettling. Twisting around on the sit, the man looked at him, confirming that he was indeed middle-aged, his hairline receding at an unfortunate rate. He flexed his hands, presumably tired from all the playing, and wiped them on the sleeves of his frayed yellow sweater, and greeted the other man with a smile.

"Hello there, young man! Come for a visit? I don't get too many guests."

"Uh, maybe?" the man said with an uncomfortable smile. "Are you the owner of this... place?" The older man shook his head.

"Oh no, I don't own this place! I'm here to appreciate its beauty! To get away from the shallowness of modern life! Aren't you here for the same thing?"

"Not too sure, I'm afraid. I woke up here a while ago without any memories," the man shrugged, looking back at the towering wooden block. To his surprise, it was actually a massive bookcase, filled head to toe with various books of various colours, though how you were supposed to reach the top books was beyond him.

_I suppose this world is beautiful on an aesthetic level, but why is it like this? Is there a reason? A point? And the "shallowness of morden life"? What does that mean?_

"Well, my name is Yuuya Suntory," the older man said, still keeping his smile, apparently unconcerned with the other person's amnesia. "If you'd like to stay and listen to me play, you're-"

All of a sudden, music started playing again, though from somewhere else, since Suntory hadn't started playing again. It seemed to be another piano or piano-like instrument, though with some kind of heavy filter or reverb on it this time, playing a much darker, melancholy melody than before, by some odd noises in the background that didn't sound like any instrument.

_Hmm. It's actually not too-_

_**I know that you mad at me, givin' attitude** _

The man jumped, caught off guard by the sudden lyrics, before flinching one second later at the singer's heavily autotuned voice, crooning over a revered bass, followed a kick and snare. 

_Well, I know one thing about myself. This REALLY isn't my type of music._

_**I don't ask for much, just all of you** _

_**You're bad for me, and, baby, I'm bad for you** _

_**Now you're all on me and I'm all on you** _

_**I just keep on running back to you, you, you, you** _

Looking over at Suntory, he was surprised to see the man back on his chair with a pleasant smile on his face as he tapped his foot in time to the beat. 

"Lovely music, isn't it? Really gets to the heart of things! You'd never hear stuff like this on the radio today! Not with this generation! All poppy hogwash!"

"Ahaha... right...." the man said, giving an awkward grin, until his nose was suddenly hit with a smell. A bad one. Almost gagging, the man quickly covered his lower face.

_Oh, GOD! How did I not notice that earlier? And why isn't this guy reacting to it?! Where is it coming from? Smells like a dead body!_

Hesitantly removing his hand, he sniffed the air once more, his face twisted in disgust. Noticing the scent was stronger towards the piano, he began approaching it, Suntory still smiling and nodding along to the song. 

"Man, can't you smell that?"

"Hmm? Smell what?" Suntory asked, looking over at the man with confusion, who was standing over the piano, looking at it with a suspicious gaze before forcing his fingers under the lid and lifting it up, peering into the innards of the piano. 

"Well, found something?"

No response.

"Young man?"

No response. 

Frowning, Suntory stood up and walked over to the man's side, who stood still, staring into the piano with a blank expression.

"What's wrong, Mister... oh. Oh my."

Inside the piano were two dead bodies in the fetal position. Both girls, both teenagers, bound up in piano wire, blood seeping from where it was wound particularly tight. One girl was short with slightly spiked blond hair, wearing a school uniform consisting of a green blazer, a white-collared shirt, black tights and an expensive-looking silver pin of some kind of mascot character. Her eyes were shut. The other girl on the hand, was far lankier, wearing only a single, pure white, sleeveless dress, and with seemingly endless black hair. Her eyes were wide open, a dull green. Both of them, unfortunately, had been there long enough for their bodies to begin to decay, judging by the awful smell and the brown splotches on their pale skin.

"Kaeru."

"What?"

"That girl's name is Kaeru," the man said, inclining towards the girl in the white dress. "Somehow I know her name, and by seeing her, I've remembered my own. I'm Sakaido. No first name, but that doesn't matter. My goal, my purpose in this world, is to solve the mystery of Kaeru's death. That's my duty, as the brilliant detective."

* * *

"We finally found her!" Wakashiki cried, exasperated. "I can't believe Anaido didn't think to open the piano! AND the missing girl's in there!"

"Director! I've ID'd Yuuya Suntory!" Habutae called out, passing the image along to everyone else. "He's a therapist who specialises with children and adolescents. Works in the same general area as the school."

"Not only that, but that bookshelf is a match for the one in his office, albeit blown up to around four times the actual size. The books are even in the same order," Shiratake added, scanning through security footage as well as images of the id well, before his eyes narrowed slightly, leaning in closer. "Although, it seems the books in the id well are all the same size. Huh."

"I'm going through his current and former patients now," Togo said, flicking back and forth between reports on a growing list of children. Meanwhile, Wakashika zoomed into the piano, looking around and behind the bodies at the piano itself. 

"Strange. Other than Kaeru and Nikka, the piano is empty. There are no strings, no hammers or a damper. We saw Suntory playing the piano, but how could he do that if there was nothing in their other than dead bodies? Is there some kind of meaning behind it?"

Momoki said nothing, still watching the id well as Sakaido stuck his head further inside the piano, Suntory alongside him, his expression suggesting that he too had been completely unaware of the bodies as well. After a moment of handling Kaeru's body, Sakaido locked the lip in place so it wouldn't fall, leaving it to walk over to the bookshelf.

 _"Uh, Mr. Detective, I swear I had no idea about this!"_ Id well Suntory assured, sweating profusely.

 _"Don't worry. I'll question you later. But this has been bugging me ever since I saw it,"_ Sakaido said, looking up and down the shelve. _"All these books are the same length. Why is that?"_ Pulling a random one off the shelf, Sakaido opened it up, only for it to be completely blank. Raising his eyebrows, he flicked through some more pages. All of them blank. Dropping the book, he grabbed another, then another, then another. All blank. Momoki's eyes widened slightly, a subtle expression of realisation.

"There is no meaning behind it. That IS the meaning."

"No meaning...?" Zooming back out and looking at the bodies in the empty coffin, Wakashiki felt the dots in his head connect. "This music, this world, the killer, there's nothing behind them. They've built up this image, this aesthetic, but it's hollow. They're posturing, acting like they have some kind of deeper message, but deep down they know that they're just empty! If that's the case, could they be trying to force a meaning onto themselves with murder? Or is it the opposite? Is this awsome world and music just there to justify murdering someone for some pseudo-intellectual bull?"

"I think... I think I know why I couldn't ID the first two people Anaido met based on their faces," Habutae inturrpted. "I thought they were odd names to begin with, and when I looked online, I found a message board that has both of those names registered as usernames. I think that those were people the perpetrator talked to online, and that those bodies where just his own internal image of them."

"Inspector, I've found the only student from Fuchi Nishi that's a paitent of Suntory! It's a third-year named Maro Asashi!" Togo said, showing Momoki a headshot of a young man with long, somewhat unkempt hair, a thin, almost malnourished face and dark brown eyes, wearing the same uniform as Nikka was in the id well.

"Matsuoka! Did you get that?"

_"Copy! Hondomachi's bringing up his address. Assuming he's the perp, are we-?"_

"Wait!" Everyone stopped and looked over at Shiratake, whose hands were flying from screen to keyboard to screen. One on was an extreme close-up of Nikka's pin, and the other an atrial shot of a large, abandoned factory. "I can't belive I didn't notice this earlier! There's the interior of a factory reflected in the reflection of her pin! I'm running the test now!" After inputting all the date, he smashed enter and stood back, his hands twitching, ready to start moving again at a moments notice. After a few tense moments, a 3D model popped up on his display. "I knew it! There's an old office building scheduled for demolition in three months located on the outskirts of the Keiyō Industrial Region!"

_"What?! How the hell did he get there from school without anyone seeing him?!"_

"Calm down, Matsuoka," Momoki said. "He's probably been moving slowly through back alleys. The building showing up in the id well is likely a reflection of his intent to go there. If he's even made it there by now, he won't have been there too long, meaning the victim might still be alive!"

"Sending the address now!" With a tap, Shiratake sent the address over to Hondomachi. With a small sigh, he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, leaning on the rail. 

_"Got it! Let's go, Mr. Matsuoka!"_

_"Alright. I'm sending a squad to fan out around the area, in case he hasn't got there yet. I'll-"_

_"Hold it. It's alright."_

_"Kok-Chief?!"_

"Chief? What's going on?" Momoki asked.

_"I just got word from the metropolitan. They say that Maro Asashi turned himself in a few minutes ago. He's at a station with Annaisha Nikka now."_

_"He... He what?!"_

_"I'm still getting details but... it sounds like Ms. Nikka convinced him to do so."_

"Oh." Somewhat stunned, Habuate blinked slowly, as if unable to process what he heard. "That's... new..."

"Wait, so all that stress was for nothing?!" Wakashika said, prompting a groan from Shiratake. To the surprise of both however, Momoki let out a brief, weary chuckle.

"Ahaha, well, I suppose that a few hours of pointless worrying is worth it if we get a bloodless resolution. Right?" he asked, looking over at Togo, who gave him a small, reassuirng smile.

_"Okay... so what do we do?"_

_"Well, since you're out there already, could you head over to his address anyway and let his parents know what happened? From the looks of it, he won't be leaving the police station any time soon."_

_".... yes, sir."_

_"Well, this was an underwhelming end to things..."_

_"Don't complain, Ho-!"_ was all the others could hear before Matsuoka cut his com.

_"As for the rest of you, we're going to need to call you soon for your reports, but until, you're back on standby. That's all."_

"Thank you, Chief," Momoki said as Kokufu went cut his com. "Good work, people! I know our work might not have mattered much in the end, but try not to feel discouraged. This was the best possible outcome. Togo, eject Sakaido. I'll head down to let Narihisago know what's happened. Habutae, it's your turn to get coffee. The usual." Rolling his shoulders, Momoki walked off as the flooring lowered to create the stairs leading to the cockpit.

"Aye aye, Captain," Habutae replied, turning off his display and making his way down the stairs and out of the chamber. Leaning against the railing, Wakashikia stretched his arms and neck, letting out a groan as they clicked.

"Phew. Well, at least this one had the decency to turn himself in," he said as Togo quietly ejected Sakaido, who by this point had started climbing the bookcase to try and get to the top books as Suntory shouted at him. "We can't have him giving a bad name to other appreciators of **A E S T H E T I C**."

"Of what?"

" **A E S T H E T I C**."

"Why are you saying it like that?" Shiratake asked, looking up from cleaning his glasses.

"Like what? You mean ' **A E S T H E T I C** '? Because you're supposed to call ' **A E S T H E T I C** ' ' **A E S T H E T I C** '. Otherwise, how would you know it's **A E S T H E T I C**?"

"Okay, I regret asking now."

"Honestly, I'm jealous of Sakaido, getting to experience all that **A E S T H E T I C**! Aw, I kinda wanna be a brilliant detective now!"

"At this rate, one of us is going to end up a brilliant detective..."

"Don't murder our detective, Shiratake."

"Yes, Ma'am..."


End file.
